Grampy

It's been a while, but most of you know what's been going on around here. We had a visit from Mom and Dad towards the end of August, and Grampy, Scott's grandfather, passed away on August 26. Things have been busy to say the least!

About Grampy... this was the "first death" for the kids--you know, someone they actually had seen and knew. Of course, what they knew mostly was Grampy in his wheelchair at the nursing home. Grampy lived 91 years, and had Alzheimer's for about the past 9 of those. The boys weren't around for any of the cogent part of his life. Nevertheless, I think Grampy, in their minds, was an old, sweet grandpa who didn't say much, but was comfortingly there in the background when they visited Nana and Papa. He handed out hats and had a remote-controlled pig. Not a bad way to remember your great grandfather.

Shortly after we learned about his passing I picked the boys up from school. I had let Zac know the day before that he was soon to die. When I told the guys, Seth was sweetly distressed for a few minutes. "He died?" he said compassionately. I explained that he was very old and sick, and now he was in heaven with Jesus. Later, Blane--who always processes things by asking numerous questions--asked if we were going to get a new Grampy.

Funeral and visitation were held here. The visitation was very well attended. We took the boys up to the casket and let them look at him for a bit. I don't know what they thought of him. To me, even the nicest prepared body never looks quite right. But...the person isn't there any more. Maybe it's best that way.

The guys handled that fine and ended up playing quietly in a pew with their third cousin Ian.

For the funeral on Saturday, Scott had prepared some remarks on behalf of the grandchildren. The plan was for me to stay in the back of the church auditorium with Seth and Blane, who we seriously doubted could make it through the funeral without loud whispering or fidgeting. Zac sat up front with the family.

Scott had a lovely address, as did Mack, Gram and Grampy's oldest son. We drove out to the cemetary on a flawless summer day--bright sunshine, no clouds, perfect temperature. My tears came at the 12 gun salute (I had to cover Blane's ears) and the presentation to the widow of the folded flag.

We finished the weekend with the extended family and had a beautiful time. Ironically, there is often no more sweeter time for family fellowship than funerals. At the end, we took a picture of the family, 30 strong.

This week, Blane prayed at dinner. It went something like this:

"Dear God,
Thank you that we had a good day today,
Thank you for the food.
Thank you that Grampy doesn't have to die anymore.
Thank you that we are having cornbread.

In Jesus name, Amen"